Breathing The Same Air
by xfirefly9x
Summary: Doggett/Reyes. A collection of short fics based on the relationship between Doggett and Reyes.
1. Breathing The Same Air

**_Breathing The Same Air_**

He leans in close enough that she's tempted to kiss him and put an end to this never-ending dance they are in. She stops herself just in time.

His breath is warm on her face. For a moment she muses on the fact that they are breathing the same air. He exhales it, she inhales it and vice versa.

She can smell his aftershave, so sweet and intoxicating and everything him. It mixes with the fresh shampoo smell from his still wet hair. He'd just gotten out of the shower when she arrived at his place.

She takes a deep breath, almost tasting him by the simple action. Her senses are so overwhelmed by all that is John Doggett that it takes a second to register that he's speaking to her.

"Monica? Are you with me?" he asks.

She blinks and shakes her head to clear her thougths. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

He narrows his eyes at her. "You were staring at me. You had a strange expression on your face."

"Sorry," she excuses herself. "I'm with you now." She forces the forbidden thoughts from her mind and fixes him with a determined stare - this time to show she's listening to hijm rather than fantasising, though she hopes he doesn't realise she's been distracted from him...by him.

"Good to hear," he smirks at her. He gets back to talking through their latest case.

She goes back to daydreaming.

She doesn't bother telling him she'd already reviewed the file earlier.

She doesn't want to pass up the chance to watch him and to breathe him.

_fin._


	2. The Chase

**_The Chase_**

Her heart pounds in her chest. Her feet slap the ground (left, right, left, right, left, right) in a steady rhythm. She nearly has him. She can feel it.

His heart pounds in his chest. His feet barely touch the ground as he runs, fast, faster. He can hear her behind him and he wants to turn around and end this game.

He wants to stop running. He is tired. He is scared though of what will happen if he does stop. He is scared that things will change too much to ever go back. He begins to slow...

She is tired and wants to stop but she can't make herself. There is too much at stake, too much she will lose if she gives up the chase now. Until she has him in her grasp, she won't stop. She won't stop.

Her one desire is coming true. She can see that he is struggling and slowing down in his attempt to keep her away from his heart. She is gaining ground. Her hand reaches out and there is still too much space between them.

What he has been running from all this time is finally catching up with him. He finds that instead of running faster and harder, he wants to stop and face it head on. He slows down and glances over his shoulder. He sees her hand reaching for him. Turning so that he is jogging backwards, he cautiously extends his own hand.

They meet in the middle and fall, exhausted to the ground, hands grasping one another tightly.

The chase is finally over.

_fin._


	3. Wildflowers

**_Wildflowers_**

"People eat these?" John asks, holding up a flower by its stem. He studies it, narrows his eyes. He frowns in confusion.

Monica fights back the urge to smile and shrugs. "Apparently."

"Why the hell would anyone want to eat flowers?"

"The wildflowers here are supposed to have special healing properties. It's not unusual for locals to add them to their meals," she supplies.p

"These things? Really?" He scrunches up his nose. Shakes his head in disbelief.

"Really, John. When I went out to pick up our lunch I got talking with Rebecca. She's the lady who served me," she explained. "She was really quite nice, actually. She told me a story about a friend of a friend who was healed."

John pinches the bridge of his nose. He sucks thoughtfully on his lower lip.

Monica continues. "The friend of a friend had cancer. Malignant cancer. The doctors gave her no more than two months to live. That was when she joined the rest of the town in eating the wildflowers. At her next doctor's appointment, tests showed no sign that there ever was any cancer. She still lives in this very town and is in perfect health."

"How'd you know she's okay?"

"I met her. We both did, in fact."

"Ms Splade?" Realisation.

"Yup."

"Wow."

"I know."

"You actually believe all this?"

"You don't?"

He offers a pointed look. "It's a little farfetched if you ask me."

"Of course," she says. Her eyes glint. "I guess I'll just have to prove you wrong then."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Let's go and find out."

_fin._


	4. Yellow Gold Blood

**_Yellow-Gold Blood_**

She has seen and experienced many things she'd never have thought possible since she joined the X files. They both have.

That they are now looking at the oddly coloured blood of an animal – a dog? – is therefore nothing too astounding to comprehend.

"It's almost gold," she declares, thoughtfully.

"More yellow, if you ask me," Doggett adds.

They exchange a look, a smile.

"This is definitely not normal blood. I'll collect a sample for Scully to test." She takes the evidence bag Doggett offers her, along with a metal stick, and kneels down beside the limp body of the 'dog' creature.

Just as she swipes the wound with the stick, the 'dog' jerks fiercely. She scrambles back from it. It jerks some more and one of its eyes opens. A moment later, it climbs to its feet and runs off. Fast.

"Wasn't it dead?" Doggett scrutinises, when he realises he'll never catch up to it.

Her gaze catches his and she shrugs helplessly. She had thought it was dead too. In fact, she had been certain. She gestures at the trace of yellow-gold goop on the end of the metal stick she's still holding onto. "I don't think I got enough for a proper sample," she says weakly. She inserts the stick into the evidence bag, regardless.

Doggett frowns slightly and then shakes his head. "Ahh, never mind. I'm sure it won't be the last time we come across a freak of nature with the wrong colour blood."

She smirks. "Knowing this job, you're probably right."

_fin._


	5. Roads Collide

**_Roads Collide_**

"Goodbye, Monica," John says softly. Eyes downcast, he turns to walk away and to leave her life forever. He takes a step and then another one and she can feel the distance grow between them.

A pang goes through and before she knows it, she's reaching out and placing her hand on his shoulder. She can't say goodbye this way. She just can't. It's too heartbreaking and too dark and too damn depressing.

"John," she says back, when he fixes confused blue eyes on her. "How about a drink? We could talk some more if you want. Or not." She attempts a smile, soothing and warm. "Whatever you feel up to."

John studies her for a moment and she sees a glimmer of something in his eyes. Hope, perhaps. She can't be sure. The flicker diminishes.

"That sounds great, Mon, but maybe another time," he replies. "After this, all I want to do is go home." He offers a shrug.

She smiles sadly at him. "I understand you're hurting but maybe doing something with other people will help you. Are you sure you don't want to go do something?"

"I'm sure," John says firmly. "I'll call you though if I change my mind."

She nods. "You've got my number." Running her hand through her hair, she sighs. She's got nothing appropriate left to say to him. What is there to say to a man who has just lost his son?

She swallows, deciding it's best to leave things be. He's broken, not himself, and he needs to heal.

"Goodbye, John."

She begins to walk away.

"Monica?"

She pauses at the sound of his voice and smiles softly. "Yeah?"

John waits until she looks at him, until he can see the passionate brown of her eyes, and then he nods his head slightly. "Thank you."

His expression, so pained and yet grateful and hopeful, catches her off guard and she wonders. Maybe this wouldn't be the last point at which their roads collided. She can only hope.

_fin._


	6. Man Of Action

_**Man Of Action**_

It is when John pushes her out of the way of danger and takes her place as a target that she truly sees how much he cares for her. He has always been more of a man of action than of words and the fact that he's so readily putting his life on the line for her solidifies his affection for her.

Of course, she could pin it all down as him doing his job. Anyone else would. She knows better, though.

If there's one thing that she knows about John, it's his face, his expressions and how to read his innermost feelings from them. He's easy to read, she's found, and in the moment he lunges for her to push her out of harms way, there's a passion in his face, desperate and loving and true. His eyes never lie.

His expression is why her heart speeds up when it happens. Adrenaline only adds to the rush.

They are soon surrounded by FBI agents, all training their weapons on the guy who almost shot her. The guy is talked down and then taken away as she watches and she's left standing by John's side. They are so close that she can feel his heart beat through his shirt.

She catches his gaze and smiles gratefully at him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leans up and kisses him gently on the cheek. His skin is warm and her smile grows. "Thank you."

Their eyes communicate what is left unsaid.

_fin._


	7. Stay With Me

_**Stay With Me**_

"Stay."

The word leaves her mouth before she can think about it.

"Stay with me."

She locks eyes with John, offers him a small, almost shy smile.

He stares at her as if she's lost her mind.

"What?"

She swallows. "Stay with me. Here. Tonight." She gestures around her kitchen to deepen her explanation.

John's eyes widen a little more. _He_ swallows.

"Oh...uh...Mon..."

"Yeah?" She holds her breath, expecting him at any moment to decline.

"That," he begins awkwardly. "That would be great."

"You think so?" Her smile grows in boldness.

"I do." He loses his hesitation and grins back at her.

"Okay, that's great!" She pours herself a glass of water at the sink, takes a sip. Watching John and not taking her eyes from his, she slowly finishes the rest. She places the cup on the bench and takes his hand in hers.

He's still grinning madly at her when she leads him through to her room.

_fin._


	8. Silent Minds, Pounding Hearts

**_Silent Minds, Pounding Hearts_**

She stands by the window and watches the rain soak the street. Her mind is silent.

He stands a few paces back from her and watches her from afar, taking in her soft features in the moonlight. His mind is silent too, however, his heart is not.

His heart is pounding a mantra.

Thump, thump! Thump, thump! Thump, thump!

For her.

He swallows, lets the beating in his chest guide him towards her. He has lost all control over his body and is slave to his passion, to his desire.

She tilts her head slightly as if sensing his movement and her neck is bared to him. It pulls him closer, closer, closer and he is suddenly right there, running his fingers lightly over her pale skin.

Soft. So soft.

His lips replace his fingers and he trails kisses up and along her jawline until she can take no more and captures his mouth with her own.

Their hands join and they continue kissing as the rain falls harder outside.

_fin._


	9. Tomorrow Night

**_Tomorrow Night_**

She sat in the darkness, quiet music fading into the background and dogs barking off in the distance. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep (sleep had been a luxury the past few days) and yet she knew that even if she tried, she wouldn't be able to sleep.

The days' events kept playing over and over in her mind, like a video recording in a museum set on repeat.

John squeezed her hand gently and looking into her eyes, said the words she'd been longing to hear for years.

"We should do something sometime," he told her. "You and me. You know, out of work." He smiled almost shyly at her and ran his free hand through his hair.

"As a date, do you mean?" she asked.

John nodded in confirmation. "As a date."

She considered him for a moment.

Was he really ready for a relationship with her beyond what they had now? Was she?

They had spent so much time together as friends and co-workers… Would it even be possible for them to move past that? Would it ultimately be worth it?

She didn't know.

"Mon?"

Realising she hadn't answered him, she offered him a warm smile. "Sure, John. I'd love to go out with you sometime." Her gaze dropped to their joined hands as it hit her.

This was really happening.

They were actually moving forwards.

Finally.

John grinned and she felt her insides melt at once. "Are you free tomorrow night?" he asked.

"I am."

She sighed and flicked on the light, blinking as the sharp glow cut through the darkness. Sleep obviously wasn't coming to her any time soon. There was no point in denying it. She climbed out of bed and made her way to the couch, grabbing the remote on her way and flipping the TV on.

She fell asleep an hour later with John on her mind and no recollection of the TV program that blared at her from the screen.

_fin._


	10. About Damn Time

**_About Damn Time_**

"John," she says softly, looking into his eyes with the most sombre expression he's ever seen her wear (bar only the moment when they found his son). "I can't do this anymore. It's too much."

His heart plummets in his chest to depths he is certain he won't be able to rescue it from. He should have seen this coming. He'd known it was only a matter of time before she left him. That's what she was undoubtedly going to do - leave him. What else would she be so serious about?

He can't make his mouth move to form any words, let alone the ones he wants desperately to say to her. (Don't go. Don't leave me.) He can't breathe.

"I've been waiting for you too long and nothing has happened."

The words are beginning to blur in his mind like menacing grey clouds chasing each other across the sky, graceful and deadly in their journey. They gnaw at the empty cavity where his heart fell from, widening the gap and making him vulnerable to the outside world.

"I'm not waiting for you any longer."

There. She's said it, he tells himself. She's going to leave him alone to face the world without her. She's going to move on and she'll live the life that he should be living with her with somebody else. She's given up on him. He's run out of time.

He prepares for the final blow, the last cutting words to tear him down. He waits for her to say she's found someone, someone else, someone better. Someone who's not scared like he is of freefalling into a serious relationship with her.

The words don't come.

Instead, Monica reaches for his hands and places them on her waist. She looks into his eyes as if asking for permission and when she sees a glimmer of understanding, her lips crash onto his. Her tongue seeks entrance and he opens his mouth in response.

When they break away some time later, they are both breathing heavily.

He finally manages to string a few words together and rests his forehead against her.

"Wow...uh... I know this is kinda late, but I really like you, Monica. A lot. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long while."

Smiling softly, she rolls her eyes and as his lips descend upon hers, she mutters, "about damn time!"

He can't have agreed more.

_fin._


	11. Before We Know It

**_Before We Know It_**

Her throat is tight. Her mouth is dry. She can barely breathe without choking on her tongue.

"Do we have to do this?"

"Yes."

"Are you absolutely sure we have to do this?"

"I'm sure, Mon. There's no other way."

"We can't call in someone else?"

She falls silent when she sees the look on his face. Impatient doesn't begin to describe it.

"Look, let's just get this over with quickly, huh? We need to get those keys back so we can get the hell outta here."

She nods mutely.

"It'll be done before we know it."

She eyes the sludge ahead of them and swallows. "Let's hope so."

_fin._


	12. Another Source Of Heat

**_Another Source Of Heat_**

Gentle rays of sunlight are pouring through the window when Monica wakes up. They caress her face and arms and legs and she wants nothing more than to lie in it for eternity. The warmth seeping into her skin makes her feel clear headed and alert and alive.

She shifts slightly and becomes aware of another source of heat: an arm that does not belong to her. She studies it for a moment, taking in the tiny hairs and the sun-kissed skin. Before she knows it, she's tracing circles over it.

"John?"

The corners of her mouth twitch up into a smile as his eyes flutter open and he looks at her.

"Monica?"

She grins.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she says, her voice dreamy.

He leisurely leans over and tracing the line of her jaw with one hand, kisses her. "Morning."

"Feel like staying in?"

He nods. "Just what I was thinkin'." He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth.

Shifting back under the covers, she lets her hand run up and down his arm as he pulls her closer. "Perfect."

_fin._


	13. Playing The Victim

**_Playing The Victim_**

"Don't you play the victim here, Mon," he says. "You're the one who got us into this." He watches a she blows a strand of chestnut hair form her face and throws him a fiery glare.

"Hey!" he says defensively. "I'm just tellin' it how it is."

She shakes her head as she moves underneath his outstretched arm. She takes his hand again when they're back to being face to face.

Six other couples practice the same move around them. They wear ridiculously happy smiles for their current activity. Cheesy music plays in the background.

"Oh this is not my fault!" she tells him firmly. "If anyone's to blame here, it's you." There's a faint glimmer in her eyes.

He quirks an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And how is that exactly? Did I force you to make that phone call to organise this using my mind? Using my 'telepathic' powers? Did I hold you at gunpoint?"

They fall silent as a difficult part of the dance comes up that takes their full attention to master.

When it's over, she looks him full in the face and smiles softly. "This is your fault," she informs him, "because you're the one who asked me to marry you. We wouldn't be here, practicing if there was no wedding."

Triumph. Victory.

She's won.

He is to blame.

"Then again," he teases with a grin, "you're the one who said 'yes'."

_fin._


	14. Some Brightenin'

_**Some Brightenin'**_

"A smile can brighten someone's day," she had once told him. He can still remember the look in her eyes as she said it, so sincere and so convinced that it was truth. It was right. It never failed her.

Looking at her now, he can tell she is in need of a little cheering up, but will a smile be enough as she said? He doubts it.

He tries anyway, though. His lips curl up slightly and a smile, a somewhat awkward smile but a smile nonetheless, forms on his face. He fixes his eyes on her.

She is busy scrambling through the things on her desk in an attempt to find something. She suddenly slams a pen down and growls rather loudly in frustration. "Where is it?!"

She finally looks up at him, only to find him smiling at her. She frowns. "You think this is funny, do you?" she asks, misreading him.

He immediately drops the smile, shakes his head. "No, no! Of course not. I was tryin' that thing you said the other day about... nevermind." He scratches his head. "What were you lookin' for?"

"About what?" she says, distracted.

He sighs. "About smilin'. Brightening someone's day and all that. You look like you could do with some brightenin'."

She stops abruptly, stares at him from behind deep, hazel eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They stare at each other.

"Do it again."

"Huh?"

"Smile. I'd like to see you smile," she tells him.

He quirks an eyebrow at her and then obliges. He smiles.

Smiling back, she takes the time to breathe in deep. She takes the time to slow down and relax. "I feel much better," she informs him after a little while. "Thank you."

He continues to grin as he realises that he does too.

_fin._


	15. The Darkest Corners

_**Notes: If confused, 'they' are Monica and John's feelings for each other.**_

___**The Darkest Corners**_

They keep to the darkest corners, as silent and inconspicuous as can be. To allow their true natures to be known is not an option. They're not ready to make themselves known to each other let alone to the rest of the world.

They hide.

They hide and they wait and they tempt each other with what they could be.

They wait some more.

It is a game they play, almost like hide and seek, but they're never truly found. They are too deep to be dug up by regular means, yet not far enough down to go unnoticed entirely.

Until they are ready, they will continue on as they have done so for so long in the past.

They will wait for the right time to leave the shadows they call home behind them.

_fin._


	16. All The Corners

_**All The Corners**_

"Don't forget to piss on all the corners before you leave."

Monica turns and storms out, leaving Brad to stare after her in bewilderment.

What had he done to upset her so?

His every move had been to protect her, to help her.

He only had her in mind.

His intentions were pure.

She was treating him like he'd done the opposite, like he'd somehow betrayed her trust.

Perhaps her involvement with the X files had changed her.

Perhaps she had changed since they were together.

He had.

It wasn't a stretch to guess that she had too.

Even if that was the case, though, she had talked to him as if he was to be looked down upon.

He frowns.

Stares at the door where she exited, now closed.

And then it hits him.

Doggett. John Doggett.

Doggett is the reason he was looking for.

It was Doggett's fault.

And it was his own fault.

He'd lost her.

_fin._


	17. Can’t Argue

_**Can't Argue**_

"He's lying to you, don't you see it? He's hooking you in with his untruths and you're letting him," John insists. He takes his hands from his waist and crosses them over his chest instead. His eyes hold promise that what he says is in fact the truth and that their suspect merely has a way with words. That is the way of it, he is certain.

No one could possibly be 'in congress with the devil' in any physical sense, as is being suggested. It is outright stupid to believe that. He's never been much into the paranormal, but that much, he knows. It's a thing of absolute certainty in his mind.

Monica sends him one withering glance and he very nearly decides to reconsider. "Maybe you're right or maybe you're wrong. It doesn't matter either way. We're here to catch a murderer. That's all I'm trying to do." Her determination is overwhelming.

John shrugs, still not believing her but unwilling to argue any more. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that." He lets their differences in belief drop and continues to keep an eye out for that little clue that would allow him to say 'I told you so'. It will come. He's sure it will come.

_fin._


	18. Unrequited

_**Unrequited**_

It hit her one night as John waved her goodbye that maybe, just maybe, he didn't have feelings for her as she did for him.

After all the years they had known each other and after all that they had faced, he still had not kissed her goodnight at the close of what she liked to think of as dates. He waited for her to get inside every time he dropped her home after drinks and he often smiled at her, but that was it.

He hadn't leaned in closer to kiss her. He hadn't even squeezed her hand, except for maybe once or twice when he'd been in an overly emotional state and/or very drunk.

Was it her? Was something about her repelling?

Perhaps he had her firmly down in his mind as a friend. Perhaps that was it.

Whatever the case, she wished he could understand what she felt for him. She wished that perhaps if he was so inclined, he could return the gesture. Maybe one day he would.

She'd been waiting on him for years now and had no intention of giving up hope.

_fin._


	19. I’m Not Scared

**_I'm Not Scared_**

"Are you scared?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"No. Of course not! I'm not scared."

A smirk.

"Are _you_ scared?"

Monica quirked an eyebrow and smiled wanly at him. She shrugged. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't."

Silence.

"Do you want to change your answer?"

A pause.

An amused smile.

"Okay, fine. Yes, I'm afraid. This… this thing is new to me."

"Our relationship?"

"Yeah. That."

"It's new to me, too. We're in this together."

"Together? Yeah, I guess we are."

"Scared now?"

"Not quite as much."

"Me either."

_fin._


	20. The Courage To Seek

_**The Courage To Seek**_

The end is near and approaching fast. It will be the conclusion of one man's dream and life's purpose. Once the X files are shut for good, its demise will bring about a new era.

Who if anyone will seek the truth and follow in the footsteps of those who worked there? Who will continue that mission?

Who will have the courage to seek the truth?

They will for as long as they can but there is only so much two people can do and they are both close to their own ends. Fighting for something the government doesn't want known puts a person in a bad spot in more ways than one.

"What are we going to do?" She looks at John whose expression is as grim as her own.

He rubs at his temples, lets his hands drop to his sides and sighs. There is little they can do. With limited resources and what seems like the entire world against them they are at a disadvantage. "We'll keep fighting," he tells her. "That's all we can do."

She nods her approval. "Until the end we'll keep fighting."

_fin._


	21. Caught Me

_**Caught Me**_

His hand clutches at hers. Misses.

Laughter escapes her lips and she continues to run, with her hair flowing out behind her.

He follows her. There's a smile pulling at his mouth. He doesn't let it spread for fear that if he lets his happiness show completely, he will wake up and it will all turn out to be a dream.

It's too good to be a dream; too good to be real.

So which is it?

Sunlight glints off her chestnut hair and he slows his pace to match hers. He breathes in, breathes out.

She holds out her hand to him.

He hesitates before he reaches for it and swallows when her fingers curl around his and her warmth seeps into his skin.

His gaze moves from their joined hands upwards, along the outline of her arm, her neck, past her lips and nose until their eyes lock. His lips twitch at the corners and his heart races at the sight before him.

And then she speaks and he knows.

This is real. This is his reality. Their reality.

"Looks like you've finally caught me."

_fin._


	22. Warmth Of Spring

_**Warmth Of Spring**_

The sun shines down, warm and unrelenting, across her face. She is reminded again of the season. Winter is leaving, to be replaced by the warmth of spring. Life is blooming all around. Birds are chirping loudly from where they perch in trees and on telephone wires.

She glances at the body beside her. The sheets barely cover his form. She readjusts them so he doesn't catch a chill from the last attempts winter is making to claim back it's territory.

Climbing out of bed, she moves to the window and stares out at the sky. It's pale blue, bright and scattered with the wispy puffs of clouds. A bird flutters by. The sound of its wings is loud in the quiet of the morning.

She hears a ruffle of sheets, of movement behind her but doesn't turn around. Rather, she lets her gaze roam over the few birds she can see and the branches of trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Warm hands take a hold of her arms from behind and then his body is melded into hers, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Hey," she murmurs.

"Morning," he replies.

She lets out a sigh of contentment. "It's a shame we have to go into work today."

He doesn't answer but a moment later she feels cold air where he had held her. She turns to look at him.

"Skinner? Yeah, it's me. Agent Reyes and I won't be in for a few hours. We've got some... research to do first." He pauses. "Okay, great."

She smirks at him as he hangs up and then reaches out to him. "Research, hmm?"

"I figure we can work just as well here as at the office," he confirms, nodding. "Better view here."

She takes in his half naked form – a pair of boxers is all he is wearing – and then waggles her eyebrows at him. "I definitely cannot disagree with that statement!"

_FIN._


	23. Leaves Rustle

_**Leaves Rustle**_

Orange and brown leaves crunch underfoot. A gentle breeze picks some of the leaves up and sends them dancing across the ground and through the air. The same breeze lifts the shawl around Monica's shoulders.

She shivers slightly and pulls it closer around her.

"You all right?"

She smiles and tilts her head to the side to look at John. "I'm fine. Just a little cold is all."

"Come here."

Monica's eyes widen slightly. When he reaches for her and pulls her in to his chest, one arm thrown over her shoulder, she breathes in deeply. She exhales. The scent of apples and something a little bitter is in the air.

Monica sighs and lets John's warmth seep through the thin layers of clothing between them to warm her.

They continue to walk back towards the office, leaning on one another and enjoying the quiet between them. More leaves rustle, moved by their passing.

_fin._


	24. Reaching Out

_**Reaching Out**_

She's been reaching out and trying to get through to him for months now. Maybe years, depending on how you interpret the foundations of their relationship.

She has watched him go through the most painful things a parent can go through – losing a child – and she has been there for him since, even if he hasn't noticed (or has just been too damn stubborn and 'typical John' to admit it and thank her).

She doesn't mind. That is what scares her most. She is devoted to John in such a way that she wouldn't change it for anything, even if she never gets anything back from him.

As long as he is okay, she is okay. If he is sad, she is sad with and for him. That will be the way of it, even if nothing more eventuates. She will continue to reach out to him and she will be there for him no matter what.

Content as she is just to have that, there will always be a part of her that longs for him to one day reach out for her too.

_fin._


End file.
